Helen Phifer - The Good Sisters - The perfect scary read to curl up with this winter

‘I can see by your face you’re not impressed with me, Kate, and I’m sorry. I just believe in being honest. I don’t want you to spend months hoping it will go away if there’s another reason for it.’

‘No, it’s not that at all. I just never expected my walk in the fresh air to clear my head to end this way. It’s all a bit bizarre.’

‘Maybe you were meant to find me. After all that took some determination to cross the jungle out the back. Why don’t I give you a lift home – save you ripping what skin you have left on your hands to bits – and I can take a look at the house for you? I’ll make some enquiries and be back in touch as soon as I find something out. How does that sound?’

‘Bloody marvellous. Thank you so much, Joe.’

He nodded and stood up. ‘To be honest I was stuck and was just about to lose my life, so maybe you were sent to save me from that bloody game that has taken over everything.’

He picked up his keys from the dresser in the hall and she followed him to the front door. An old VW camper van painted pale blue and cream was parked outside.

‘Wow I’m impressed. You don’t see many priests driving one of those.’

‘Thank you; to be honest you don’t see many priests like me. I like to be different and besides she’s been on many a ghost hunt with me. She knows how things work.’

He opened the door for Kate and she climbed in, wondering what exactly Ollie would think when he saw her getting dropped off in this by a man half her age who wasn’t wearing anything that remotely resembled a vicar’s outfit. Joe jumped in and started the engine, which sounded like a tank.

‘She’s a bit noisy, but you soon get used to it.’

Kate nodded. Her hands were stinging now. She needed to go home and wash the scratches before they got infected. She just wanted to put her pyjamas on and drink a bottle of wine to blot today out. Clear her mind of what happened earlier, of thoughts of her ever-growing crush on Ollie and of her new-found, slightly crazy friend. Could today get any stranger? She hoped not. She didn’t think she’d be able to cope with it.

As she directed Joe to the drive of her house, she saw Ollie hanging out of the first floor window shouting up at Ethan who was hanging out of the one above. Her heart lurched. Good job health and safety didn’t visit often. She watched as Ollie turned to see who was driving the camper van. He lifted his hand to cover his eyes and squinted. As they got nearer the surprise on his face when he realised she was in the passenger seat made her heart beat faster. Stop it now, woman.

‘I see what you mean. This house does look a lot like the vicarage. I didn’t even realise it was here. There’s certainly some connection. Don’t you think?’

‘Yes, now that I’ve seen it I think there is. Are you coming inside?’

She looked at his face, which had lost all the ruddiness from earlier; there was a fine film of perspiration on his forehead as they drove nearer to the front door.

‘No, I can’t. Not this time. I’ll just drop you off if you don’t mind. I’ll be in touch as soon as I find something out about the history of the house. Is that okay with you?’

Puzzled, she nodded her head. Why wouldn’t it be okay? She barely knew the man; he didn’t owe her anything. He stopped the van to let her get out, some distance from the entrance.

‘Thanks again for the lift and erm, I’m sorry about the trespassing.’

He smiled at her then began to reverse, not even answering. Strange young man, she thought to herself. Then again you didn’t get many men his age wanting to become priests, did you? She stood watching as he drove away in a plume of black exhaust fumes.

The sun was beginning to set in the sky and she wondered how late Ollie would stay tonight. She wished he would stay here all night. How nice would it be to know he was there? Hell she wanted him to stay in her bed. She wanted to make love to him then lie next to him, just knowing that he was there. It had been so long since she’d had anyone to snuggle up with. Martin had never been the snuggling type.

Christ, she needed to stop comparing him with the useless idiot who was her soon-to-be ex-husband. Ollie was nothing like him. There was no comparing the pair of them. She let out a loud sigh. Instead she would spend tonight on her own, trying not to think of what Joe had been talking about, scaring her half to death. She would lock herself in her room with her earphones in listening to music or watching a nice, romantic film until she fell asleep and couldn’t hear any footsteps or smell old leather or burning flesh. Then she would wake up in the morning, ready to start the day again. Groundhog Day had nothing on the way her life was going at the moment.

5 January 1933

Agnes towel-dried herself, relieved to be rid of the coppery smell of Mary’s blood. Her hands still smelt faintly of bleach. She didn’t mind that smell so much; at least it was clean. She thought about going to church to pray for Mary. It was dark outside now and the ground was treacherous with black ice. She would never make it across the river. The stepping stones would be like walking on ice. Instead she decided to go the prayer room downstairs and spend the next hour praying for Mary’s soul. By the time she’d done that her appetite might have returned and Father Patrick should be back.

Agnes had managed almost her whole life without a man to take care of her, but tonight it was what she needed, what they all needed. A strong male presence might be enough to deter Lilith from whatever her plans were; she just hoped that Patrick would see through the woman’s sob story. The more she thought about it the more she was convinced Lilith wasn’t who she seemed. The woman scared her, but Agnes wouldn’t let her see that. She wasn’t stupid.

Dressing in a warm jumper and slacks, she went downstairs to find Edith and see if she wanted to come and pray with her. After checking the kitchen, front room, library and dining room she finally found her huddled by the fire in the parlour, her head bent close to Lilith’s. They were talking in hushed tones and didn’t notice her walk into the room. She coughed and Edith jumped away from Lilith as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

‘Sister Edith, I think you and I should go to the prayer room and pray for Sister Mary’s soul.’

Edith stood up, her cheeks burning. ‘Of course, Mother Superior.’

Edith scurried out of the room, not before turning to look at Lilith and smile. Agnes felt every hair on the back of her neck stand on end. What had they been whispering about and why the secrecy? If Agnes wasn’t wrong, Edith’s cheeks were flushed as if she’d been caught doing something forbidden. Agnes led the way to the prayer room and opened the door for Edith, who darted inside.

‘Is everything okay, Edith? You looked a little perturbed back there when I walked in. Is there anything you would like to tell me?’

‘Yes, Agnes; no I mean. Everything’s fine. We were just discussing Lilith’s ex-husband. We didn’t want to upset you any further than you already are. He’s a terrible man – so violent and so sadistic towards poor Lilith. I can’t believe she’s not dead because of him.’

‘You do know you can talk to me about anything, don’t you? I might look old and past it, but I did have a relatively normal life until it kicked me to the gutter and I turned to God. I’m not just a frail, old maid.’

‘Of course I do, Agnes, and I don’t think that at all. Thank you. I will if I need to.’

But Agnes couldn’t push it out of her mind. Edith was the most impressionable of them all, and she wanted to know what that woman had been whispering to her about – more than ever.